Frankie's Adventure
by Simahoyo
Summary: Frankie meets another woman, but there are hints that this could be another Riley situation. Or maybe this one is a keeper. He is drawn to her, but is it like a moth to a flame? Activists, this one's for us. Frankie and O/C.
1. Chapter 1

Frankie's Adventure

By Simahoyo

Frankie Rizzoli was supposed to be meeting Jane for lunch when he caught a suspicious movement out of the corner of his eye. It was right near an underpass where the homeless often congregated because it was near a food bank. There was a scruffy looking guy with survival gear, arranging his stuff so he could sit and eat his lunch. And just behind a pillar, Frankie caught movement, then the soft whoosh as a dart flew through the air and hit the poor dude in the neck. He looked surprised, swatted at the dart, and passed out. Frankie was running toward the guy when a woman slipped out from behind the pillar. She turned, looked at Frankie, and put one hand up to stop him.

"It's not what it looks like. I'm here to help him", she whispered. Frankie hesitated, although he itched to arrest her for hurting a poor homeless guy.

She walked up to the man sprawled on the ground, looked at her watch, took a prescription bottle out of her purse, wrapped the dart in a handkerchief, stuffing it in her purse, and took the guy's bottle of water. His eyes opened, and he gave a groggy shake to his head.

"What happened?" he asked.

"You fainted." Are you feeling better?"

"I don't feel so good.", he answered.

She held up the prescription bottle. "Is this yours? It's for Herald Ivarsen. Is that you?'

He nodded. She shook out a single pill, and handed it to him. He took it and drank the water.

"If you are supposed to take this, maybe that's why you fainted."

Frankie was puzzled, and very worried. This was so illegal, but the woman seemed so kind and caring. He wanted to bust her right then, but he knew there was more to this story.

"Maybe you should hang on to your pills, and take them, let's see, it says once in the morning and once at night. It should keep you from fainting. Okay?"

The homeless guy looked relieved. "Thanks. I'm don't like to faint. I'll remember these pills."

The woman picked up a long piece of bamboo, then walked toward Frankie, and he noted her description for his report. She was tall, just about half an inch shorter than Jane, with dark brown eyes, a straight nose, and high cheekbones. She was muscular, yet curvy. And her black hair was straight and long, in a single braid. He also couldn't help noticing that she was gorgeous.

"So, what's the story?", he asked.

"Let's get out of earshot, I have more to tell you about this."

So they went around the corner next to a warehouse. The traffic on the overpass was a little louder, but she could be heard.

"I'm Adela Osceola I'm a Private Investigator, and an Nurse Practitioner specializing in working with mental patients. I was hired to find Mr. Ivarsen by his family. They were concerned because he disappeared, and they suspected he had gone off his meds. I investigated the situation, and discovered that he had left his job at his law firm, and was living on the street. So, I tracked him down, determined that he was not taking his prescribed medication, got that bottle from his parents, and gave it to him. All highly illegal, I know, but what else could we do?"

Frankie was impressed and torn. He knew how devastating mental illness was for people on the street, and their families. He had seen the results time and again. He also knew that what Ms. Osceola (_was that Italian?_)had done was illegal, but it was kind, and she did know what she was doing. "I hate these situations. Yeah, it's illegal, but you helped him. I don't know where to go from here."

Adela shifted her weight. "I need to report that he has paranoid schizophrenia. If he hallucinates something where he panics and acts out, he might hurt a lot of people. That's why we did this."

Frankie knew this was bigger than he could comfortably deal with himself. Jane was just down two blocks, so he figured she might have some advice. Or she'd just be a big pain in the butt about it all. He pasted a smile on his face. "I know we have to report this, but I would like to bypass your part in the illegal things. I was meeting my sister, the detective, for lunch, so let's talk to her about it. It's just a couple of blocks. Do you know Hernandez's?"

Adela nodded, and they started walking together. Frankie's curiosity got the better of him. "How to you learn to do that knock out thing?"

Adela laughed. "Bird hunting with my Dad. He taught me to make my own blowgun and darts, and to hit a quail at 6 yards. Later, when I was discussing this with clients, I had to figure out a way to harmlessly disable a patient to approach them without scaring them."

Frankie frowned. "So this isn't your first time pulling this stunt."

"Uh, no. I'm the Go To Gal for parents of schizophrenics. I save lives. It just happened to be illegal."

They were in front of Hernandez's, a shabby wreck of a place with great Mexican food. Frankie opened the door, and allowed Aldela his, what? Prisoner? Informant? A stray thought wandered through his head, "Girlfriend?". He shut that down. Jane was sitting at the bar, glaring at her watch, and him. He lead Adela over to her.

"What? You picked up a woman on the way to lunch? I have to get back in half an hour. I ordered for us. Whose your friend?"

"This rude person is my sister, Jane. She's the detective I told you about. Jane, this is Adela. She needs to report something."

Jane went from snarky to serious, as she took out her notebook and pencil. "Are you a witness to an incident?"

Adela looked a bit guilty. "No, I'm a medical professional reporting that we have a Paranoid Schizophrenic living under the overpass about 2 blocks north of here. His name is Herald Ivarsen. If he is off his meds, he can be a danger to himself or others. He just started them again."

Jane wrote for a minute, looked through Adela, and asked, "What is your medical background?"

Adela relaxed, appearing to find comfort in this line of questioning. "I'm a Nurse Practitioner, specializing in treating the Mentally Ill. I studied at the University of Miami, then interned at the Immokalee Reservation. I decided to move up North when a friend was murdered by one of my mental patients. I wanted to get away."

Frankie understood that. No wonder she had gone this route.

Jane tapped her pencil against the top of her notebook. "Okay. So, how do you know this guy?"

Jane's voice was soft and dangerously calm. His sister missed nothing. That was why she was such a great detective, and such a pain as a sister.

Adela looked wary. She touched her chin with her thumb, looked down, and then into Jane's eyes. "His parents asked me to look after him. He left his place of work, and disappeared. I found him living on the streets, checked with his medical team, and checked on him just today. That's how I met officer Rizzoli."

"Frankie.", he supplied. Adela smiled at him.

"And just how did you check on him? What was the process?"

Adela rolled her eyes. _Crap, she was going to tell the truth_.

"I observed him for several moments, as he talked to himself, and made characteristic movements. I determined that he did need his medications, so I knocked him out with a sedative, and when he came to, I gave him one of his prescription tablets, and told him that he fainted, and that taking the medication would keep him from fainting."

Adela didn't cower, she stood her ground. Jane had faked her death stare, so Frankie knew she wasn't too upset. "You know that's illegal, right?"

"Yes, I do. I also know it's necessary."

"So you are making decisions for patients against their wishes. "

"Yes Ma'am. And I'll keep it up as long as these people need me."

"Unless I stop you."

"That's right."

"Thanks a lot, Captain Obvious You put me in a good mess. What would you do?"

Frankie inwardly jumped. God, he didn't know. Why did she think he brought this to her?

"I don't know. It's like the time Ma grew medical marijuana for Mrs. Galina because it helped her get through her chemo."

"What? Nobody ever told me about that. I would have arrested her." His sister's eyes were narrowed, and her jaw clenched.

"That's why nobody told you. Look, Janie, this is about helping people who need it, and the law gets in the way of helping. This guy went from a law firm to living under an overpass. If getting him back on his pills was illegal, that law is wrong."

"And without his medications, he might hurt others or himself. So, I did what I knew was right. And before you ask, I will continue to do this unless someone stops me. But I hope no one does.."

Jane was pretty quiet. She re-read her notes, looked at Frankie, then Adela, then back to Frankie.

"Did you actually see her shoot the victim with the sedative."

Frankie thought about it. "No. I saw the dart come out from behind the pillar and stick in his neck."

Jane smiled grimly. "I see. Did she force the pill on the victim?"

"No, she handed it to him, and he took the pill himself."

"No witness, no crime." Jane closed her notebook and put it away. The food arrived, and Jane and Frankie dug in. Frankie, stopped, fork halfway to his mouth. "Adela, would you like to have lunch with us?" Adela smiled sweetly, shaking her head. "No thank you. I ate just an hour ago. Thanks to both of you for your help. I'd better get going."

Frankie's brain finally alerted him. She was leaving. He dug in his pocket, and handed her his card. "If you have anymore patients you need to report to us, please call me." And he gave her his best flirtatious smile. She smiled back and took the card with her. He watched her leave, hips swaying just enough to keep his attention.

"God, little brother, your eyes are going to bug right out of your head. You plan to see her again?"

"Oh Yeah. I plan to."

"Remember your encounter with Riley then. Lesson learned?"

"Yeah, lesson learned."


	2. Chapter 2

Frankie's Adventure, Chapter 2

By Simahoyo

Frankie sneaked into the morgue, looking for Maura. She looked up from some files she was writing in, and frowned.

"What? You don't look too happy to see me."

She closed the file, giving him one of her unnerving looks. "I have learned that whenever any Rizzoli except Jane comes in here looking over their shoulder, that they have a secret. And they will somehow get me into the middle of it, and then because all of you upstairs know I can't lie, someone always tries to get me to tell them. So, whatever it is, I don't want to know about it unless it is work related."

He sighed. He had known that one day she would run out of patience with the lot of them. "Ok Maura. Could I use the computer in your office?"

"Yes. Close it down when you finish. And don't tell me about it."

"Look, I don't blame you for being annoyed with us. We do drag you into the middle of our stuff. And I will try to remember to knock when I go to your place." He knew her complaint list pretty well, having hear it multiple times. He also knew from recent events that unlike the Rizzoli clan, Maura had a long fuse with a big explosion at the end. "I'll just be in the..." he started to her office, as she nodded, then smiled to show she wasn't mad, just annoyed.

When he typed in Adela's name, he found an alphabet soup after her name. The lady was educated. He was surprised to discover she was not Italian, but American Indian. Then he found two paid parking tickets, and an arrest at a protest against the city's policy to stop, "Food Not Bombs" feeding people in the park. Some cops would have dropped her for that, but he thought it was cool, and showed she had a big heart, like his Ma. When he finished, he closed the computer, poked his head in to thank Maura, and went back to work.

He didn't hear from Adela for over two weeks, so Frankie decided to practice his detective skills, and look for her. He started with the overpass where he met her. There were some homeless guys there, but not the one Adela had helped. He remembered the Food Bank nearby, dodged traffic, even though he was wearing his uniform and crossing with the light, and started up the street. It was about 3 blocks up where he saw the people congregated in front of the neat, but nondescript building. As he walked up, he noticed the people move away from him. He went in the door, where the crowd was thick, sitting in folding chairs and standing in line. Volunteers stood behind a gate and curved counter, passing out numbers. As the people turned and saw him, they jerked away from him, glaring. A little girl burst into tears, pointing at him.

A man with a clerk's apron over his jeans and t shirt ran toward him, waving him out of the place.

Frankie backed out, wondering what on earth was wrong. "Hey, do I have the plague or something? What's the deal here?"

"The city did a homeless sweep last night, and most of our clients lost their survival gear, Medicaid cards and food stamps. Police uniforms are not too popular in there today."

"Oh man. I wondered what I did. I never had to do one of those, but I have a buddy who did, and he hated it. Actually, I'm looking for Adela Osceola. I was helping her with something. Do you know where I could find her?"

The guy in the apron grinned, a gold tooth glittering. "Oh, Della. Sure, she's probably at the Mental Health Clinic. She has clients on Wednesdays and Fridays. It's the one over on Walnut.

Know the place?"

"Yeah, I do. Thanks. And sorry about the homeless sweep. I hate the things."

Frankie drove to the clinic, going inside the green walled waiting room, and up to the reception desk. An efficient looking lady was sitting there typing stuff into her computer. He leaned over and got her attention. "Hi, I'm looking for Adela Osceola. "

Her fingers stopped typing. She looked at him with amber eyes that danced with amusement.

"Did Della lead another protest?"

Frankie felt his eyebrows raising. Adela seemed like a real hellraiser. And everyone seemed to like her. "Nope, just checking on one of her clients. Herald Ivarsen."

"Well, you know the privacy laws won't let me say anything about anyone. But she's with a client right now and should be done any minute. You can take a chair. There are magazines, but none of there are newer than 3 years ago."

Frankie was just sitting down when the office door opened, and a clean cut man with dark blonde hair, wearing a suit. It was the second look when he recognized the man as Herald Ivarsen. Frankie closed his mouth before he made a fool of himself. Adela followed Ivarsen, wearing a skirt and a white blouse that looked professional, but feminine. As Ivarsen left, she turned and smiled at Frankie.

"Officer Rizzoli. Hi. Are you checking up on me?" She was flirting as she said it, her voice turning the words to honey.

Frankie smiled back. "You never called, and I missed you. Wondered what you were up to lately."

She leaned in the door way. "If I told you that, you might want to arrest me."

"Then help a poor cop with a personal conflict. I'd rather ask you out than arrest you. What should I do?"

"Oh, definitely ask me out. I much prefer it to being arrested." Here her voice dipped low like Diana Rigg, and his toes almost curled. _My God, it was indescribable_.

Frankie walked toward her, eyes on hers, brown to brown, seeking her warmth. Janie had always warned him never to ask a woman to a movie on a first date because it showed a lack of imagination. So, Frankie went for multiple choice. "Okay, Choose one of these: A Red Sox game, a picnic in Copley Square Park during a concert night, or American Car and Truck Day."

Adela raised her eyebrows. "I'm impressed. You gave me a choice, and all the choices are different. I pick the Car and Truck day. It will be a change from the canoes and air boats I grew up with. I'm going to assume that with your job, and mine, we might have to postpone if any work emergency happens. So, when is this Car and Truck Day?"

"It's this Sunday. Does that work for you?" Frankie mentally crossed his fingers.

"Yes, I'm free baring any emergencies. And I like cars. Any special dress code?"

"Yeah, don't laugh, but they encourage everyone to wear red, white and blue."

"Ah, a patriotic car and truck show. Okay." She reached into her pocket and pulled out her card, handing it to him. "Here's my number. Hope you're better at calling than I was."

As Frankie walked to his car, he sort of floated over the pavement. This one, Frost was not going to meet.


	3. Chapter 3

Frankie's Adventure, Chapter 3

By Simahoyo

The American Car and Truck Show was an annual Boston event, where cars and trucks were crowded together, surrounded by a sea of people dressed in Red, White and Blue. Frankie was wearing blue jeans, and white shirt and a Red Sox hat. Adela was in a woman's Miami Hurricanes T Shirt that left no doubt that she was all woman, she was also decked out in white jeans, and a blue sash around her hips. Frankie could barely take his eyes off her. They went over to the experimental cars, where Adela suddenly was all excitement.

"Look, alternative fuels, and electric cars. Cool. I love this kind of stuff." Adela was actually bouncing on her toes. She pulled Frankie closer to the car as if it was a magnet. "Wow, this one runs on either recycled cooking oil or an electric motor." She stuck her head in the window, checking the dashboard. It was a great view for Frankie. "Hey, it gets 75 Miles a gallon. It's the future." As Adela pulled her head out, Frankie noticed a familiar face behind the car in question.

"Hey, Mr. Isles. How are you?", said Frankie.

He turned and grinned at Frankie. "Great. I'm thinking of investing in this. But, I'm not entirely sold, because my brother told me about it. Maura liked it, and your friend seems impressed."

"Oh, oops, I forgot to introduce you. E.G. Isles, this is Adela Osceola. Adela, this is Mr. Isles, our friend Maura's dad. I'd say she was family, but he only let's us borrow her."

E.G. laughed. "At the rate she's going, you'll all be living there, at least part time."

Frankie decided it would be a good idea to explain before Adela got the wrong idea. "Ma lives in her guest house, and my kid brother stayed there for a while before he found a place. The rest of us are in love with her huge screen TV. That's a lie. She's great, and we all like her a lot."

"Sounds like our family. We have my dad, my brother, my sister, aunt Mary and Grandma. When I was a kid, we also had a cousin or two, plus the man across the river. It's all normal to me."

E.G. shook his head. "My brother drives me crazy and Connie doesn't get along with her sister. I don't know how your families do it. More power to them."

"Hey, Frank-EE.!"

Frankie knew that voice. He excused himself, and lead Adela off toward the voice. "That's my brother, Tommy. He's waving both arms over by that tree."

Tommy was making a fool of himself, flapping like a chicken, and using his fake New York City accent. It was nothing new, but Frankie sure hoped Adela would survive Tommy at his most hyper. And he'd better not turn on the charm.

Adela took one look and grinned. "Is there a factory someplace where they turn out younger brothers? So far he's just like Mike. Only he fakes a Redneck accent."

Frankie was breathing easier. Adela was looking more and more like a keeper. They threaded their way through the mob, finally getting close to Tommy.

"Hey Frankie. How's it hanging?"

Frankie wanted to strangle him for asking that. It was rude in front of a woman. Janie would have yelled at him. "Would you say that in front of Janie?"

"No. She'd tear me–uh, she'd yell at me. So whose your friend?" He turned on the charm, aiming it at Adela.

"Tommy, this is Adela Osceola. She's a Nurse Practitioner, it's like half-way between a nurse and a doctor."

"Hello Tommy.", she nodded at him. He leaned in to her, smiling. She leaned back just enough to make her point. "I have a brother about your age."

Now Tommy changed his tune. "Yeah, what's his name?"

"Mike. He's been working as a tourist guide in the Everglades. The pay isn't great, because, you know, the economy..."

"Yeah, I've been looking for something better too. So, you're from Florida? What's a nice Italian girl doing living in Florida?"

Frankie smirked. Adela's voice was gentle. "I know Oscela may sound Italian, but we're Seminole Indians. You know, we beat the US Army?"

Tommy looked impressed. "Cool. I read about you guys in middle school. Yeah, that some history you've got there. Something to brag about, huh?"

"Oh yes. My grandma drummed it into our heads from the time we could talk. We never shut up about it. Kinda like Italians about the Renaissance. "

Frankie and Tommy both laughed. "Oh yeah both Ma and Pop all the time." They blended the sentence together.

Frankie suddenly felt his mind fill with questions. "I never thought about it, but how else are Seminoles and Italians alike?"

"Both Italy and Florida are a peninsula sticking into a sea mostly surrounded by land, with a big island underneath. "

Tommy's eyes got big. "Yeah, like Sicily and Cuba."

"Both traded with a major ancient superpower. Italy with Greece, and Florida with the Mayans."

"Italy is still known for fishing. Florida too. Both are major tourist destinations.", added Frankie.

"Hey, if you have a nosy mother who is a great cook..."

Adela's eyes teared up. Frankie gave Tommy a warning look. "What's wrong?"

"My mother died when I was ten. " Tommy looked contrite. "Oh God, I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

"You didn't know. She wasn't too nosy, but she could cook up a mess of garfish and palm hearts into a great meal. Add some grits and beans, and yeah, that was a banquet. "

Frankie looked at Tommy, shrugged, and said, "I don't even know what half of that is."

"Okay, grits is polenta, beans are like baked beans only not sweet, more bacony and salty. Garfish is a fresh water fish and palm hearts are kinda like fennel, without the licorice flavor."

Both Rizzolis nodded. "Oh." Tommy turned to Frankie. "She's a great translator."

There was a silence, and to fill it Frankie asked, "Is Janie here someplace?"

"Nope. She went to the Sox game with Agent Dean."

"Oooh, Gabriel Dean. She's back with him, huh?" It was then that Frankie noticed Adela grow pale. What was this about? When he looked at her, she looked away, and then waved her hand, fanlike, under her face.

"Hot, isn't it?", but she sounded phoney. His detective sense was buzzing. Something about Gabriel Dean upset her. Was it personal, or work related? All his initial suspicions came flooding back. Something was off about this woman.


	4. Chapter 4

Frankie's Adventure Chapter 4

By Simahoyo

The sudden change in Adela stayed. She wasn't looking around at the cars, not even at the Shelby Cobra that Frankie was itching to look over. She was quiet, and turned inward. Still a little pale. _What the hell?_ He took her hand, and she looked at him.

"I'm not feeling my best. I guess I was more tired than I realized. I hate to ask, but would you take me home please?" And her tone was still phoney. Frankie had thought she was really honest, but this was defiantly fake. He was disappointed. Something was up with her, and after his recent problem with Riley, he was all too aware that not every woman was what she seemed to be.

After dropping Adela at home, Frankie drove around thinking. Her police record was clean. Maybe Dean had dumped her or something. The more he thought about it, the more he figured it was worth it to call the guy and ask about her. They should be home from Fenway by now. He parked under a tree, and called Janie on his cell phone.

"Janie, hi. I want to see if Agent Dean is around someplace. I have a question or two for him. He heard his sister blow out a breath impatiently, then the sound as she moved. He could hear the phone transfer, then Dean's voice. "Hello?"

"Hi, It's Frankie. Sorry to bug you _(he knew better than top say interrupt)_, but I had a weird reaction from my date to your name. Do you know Adela Osceola?" There was a short silence.

"Yeah, I did, years ago. But it was a case, so I can't really talk about it, you know."

"Oh hell, I really need to find out why she had such a reaction to your name. If you dumped her, that's not a big deal, but if she's hinckey, I need to know."

Dean coughed, whispered something to Janie, and then spoke to Frankie. "Ok, but this goes no further. It was twelve years ago, down in Florida, on the edge of the Brighton Reservation. It's a place where nobody quite knows who has jurisdiction over where. Part is federal, part Indian land, and part state park. So, I was called in to investigate the murder of a state game warden. It was a mess from the beginning. No one saw the murder, and the suspects included the victim's fiancé and an escaped mental patient."

"Sounds bad from the getgo. What was a mental patient doing way out there?"

"He was under the care of a Nurse Practitioner."

"Adela."

"Yeah. She was in her first year working out there, and she knew the family. Hey, cut it out!" He started laughing. Frankie could hear Janie in the background. He closed his eyes against the mental image of his sister having sex, or anything leading to it, and shivered. _(Yuck!)_ The cell phone shut off. Not that he exactly blamed the dude. But this was no help in finding out what was up with Adela. Now what? Ma? No way. Frost? Well, yeah, even though he could be competition, he knew about the Riley thing. Frankie tapped in his number.

"Frankie, wassup?"

"I got woman problems. You up for some advice?"

"Yeah, man, anytime. I'm at the Robber. Korsac's here too. C'mon over."

"Okay. Thanks." Frankie started his car, and tried to shut off his head chatter like Maura tried to teach him. But the thoughts kept leaking in. _Is she criminal? Is she okay, but has crappy luck? Should he give her a chance or run for cover?_ His brain felt like a target in a video game.

When he walked into the Robber, Korsak held up a coffee, while Frost gave him a big ole grin. He sat with them.

"So, what's goin' on? Another Riley?", asked Frost.

"That's the problem. I don't know. She does stuff that isn't quite legal, but it's to help people. Like feeding the homeless in the park and stuff like that. Then, I mention Gabriel Dean, and she goes all pale and wants to go home all the sudden. So, I called Dean, but he was still with Janie, and she interrupted the stuff he was telling me."

Korsak looked at Frost, and both of them laughed. Frankie didn't like it. It was his _sister_. He frowned at them and they shut up. At least they had some class.

Korsak look a sip of coffee, and the waitress came over. It was way early to start in drinking since he was likely to keep doing it because of the way he was feeling. Frankie ordered coffee and a burger. When she left, he didn't even look as she walked away.

"You got it bad, bro..", said Frost. "So that did Dean tell you..."

"He said he met her during a case in Florida. She was a first year Nurse Practitioner. Worked with mental patients. Some guy was killed, and they thought one of her patients mighta done it. And that's all I got. No, hey, she told me one of her patient's killed a friend of hers. So why'd she get all shook up when I mentioned Dean?"

Korsak leaned forward and started ticking ideas off on his fingers. "Maybe he dumped her. She could be the one that found the body. She feels responsible because it was her patient, or she maybe did it."

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking. Except that she could have found the body. She said it was a friend, so that would shake her up. I'm hoping she's ok."

"Did you run her name?" Frost was looking both interested and smug. He was the computer guy, and he made sure everyone knew it.

"Couple a parking tickets, paid. And arrested for demonstrating. That was it."

"Did you check Florida?"

"Yeah Frost, I did. Zip. She mentioned a brother, Mike. I didn't run her family. It happened near Brighton Reservation."

Frost got out his slick phone with all the bells and whistles. He must have been able to connect with his police computer somehow. His fingers were moving like a jazz piano player. It only took a few minutes, then he got that satisfied, slightly superior look on his face. "Found it."

Korsak looked eager. Frankie was feeling scared and excited.

"Mike Osceola Jr., 22 years old. Speeding. Paid the ticket. Charges dropped on a, "Person of interest" for a murder in June, 2000. Oh, he was a juvie then. Probably thought he was a witness. Where there's a junior, there's a senior." Frost poked around some more, then read.

"His old man was a game warden. He's so clean he squeaks. Not even a parking ticket. I'll just run the last name." They waited while Frost looked. "Mary Cypress Osceola. Couple of parking tickets. What's with them and the parking tickets? She's eighty by the way. That's it."

Frankie was relieved and disappointed. "Dean said he didn't dump her. I guess I should talk to Dean again, or take the bull by the tail, so to speak."

"You mean talk to her? Yeah. I'd do it.", offered Korsak.

"No offense, but you're not an expert on keeping woman happy."

"Your mother seems to like me."

Frankie's mouth dropped open. First Cavenaugh, then Korsak? What was she thinking? He closed his mouth."Okay. I'll figure some way to get the info. Sheesh. Maybe if Dean can stand to spend ten minutes away from Janie. Oh hell." He hit the table, and stood up. "Thanks guys. I'll update you later." then he walked out.

His brain was still kind of mushy. He'd usually call Janie, but he knew she was busy. He guessed he was on his own. He needed to figure this one out, if he was ever going to get the gold shield.


	5. Chapter 5

Frankie's Adventure, Chapter 5

By Simahoyo

Frankie's notes were starting to blur together. If he didn't get some sleep, he'd be worthless at work, so he put his notes away, and got ready for bed. His thoughts were bombarding his brain again. He tried imagining a hum in his head, drowning out the thoughts. So, then pictures of Adela zipped through his head. How the hell did Maura do that? He tried to remember, and thought the hum, and made like both sides of his mind picture go black and move in. He smiled to himself, and went to sleep.

Frankie was at work right on time, sat through the morning briefing, then took off with his partner. Harrigan thought he was God's gift to women, so Frankie drove while Harrigan hung out the window and posed. Frankie couldn't wait to get into the detective squad. The radio crackled, then, "3 echo 5, see the man at 13408 State Street. Possible DB." Frankie responded and they were on their way.

The place was a run down apartment house, the front door was covered with graffitti, and the concrete steps were chipped and broken. The door opened, and a man who looked to be German or something related walked out. He wore jeans, worn out shoes, and a Sox T Shirt, His blue eyes swept Frankie and Harrigan. "You the cops?"

"Yeah. _(Can't you tell by the uniforms?)_ "Officer Rizzoli and Harrigan. What's going on?"

"I think one of my tenants died in his apartment. It stinks like hell, so, follow me." As they tromped up the filthy stairs to the second floor, the sickly sweet stink nearly knocked them over.

_(Why didn't this guy check before?)_ The man opened the door with his key, opened the door, and stood back as the stink assaulted their noses. Frankie breathed through his mouth. He glanced over to the bed, and saw the stiff, partially decomposed. Frankie was mad. _(Why hadn't this jerk checked earlier?)_

"When was the last time you saw him?"

The man shifted his shoulders, and tried to arrange his features to look caring. "Two weeks ago, maybe three."

Now Harrigan chimed in. "And you didn't think to look for him or call in a missing person report?" Anger edged his voice.

"It's a privacy issue. If I invade his privacy, he could sue me."

Frankie looked at the body, then at the (probably) manager. "I don't think he can and hasn't been able to for quite a while. Didn't you notice the smell?"

"I thought it was just old garbage. Turns out I was right." And the jerk grinned like he was funny.

Frankie called it in before he said something he'd regret. He hoped it wouldn't be Frost showing up. His weak stomach would never make it. He did not want further conversation with the Tin Man _(heartless bastard)_, so he closed the door again, to keep the scene pristine. He and Harrigan pointedly ignored Tin Man, after getting his name, as they took notes on the call. Frankie's radio crackle, and his sister's voice came through. "Hey, let us in." So he and Harrigan, followed by Tin Man, went down and let in Janie, Frost and Maura. Frost was not gonna make it through this one.

As they went up the stairs, Frankie stood next to Frost. "Frost, man, this is a gross one. You might want to hang back." Frost nodded his thanks. Frankie opened the door, and let Maura and Janie in, followed at a distance by Frost. Janie turned to Frost, who was already going grey. "Hey Frost, question Mr..." she waited for the name. "Tell." Harrigan supplied." "Yeah, Mr. Tell."

Frost was out like a shot, and down the hall with Tin Man. Janie explored the room, leaving the body to Maura. Frankie wondered if they were having another fight. Maura was inside her cone of concentration, checking the body over. Janie stood over her, looking down. Maura looked up and smiled. Nope. Not fighting. "Sorry, Jane, I can't find the cause of death. I'll have it for you after I do the autopsy."

"Well, he is kinda messed up. Time of death?" Maura gave Janie a mock sharp look, "I could _theorize_ that it has been 2 weeks." Janie smiled at Maura, "Much better than guessing."_ (God, were they flirting over that yucky body?) _Frankie needed an excuse to get out of there. "Should I wait for the forensic team outside?" Janie nodded, so he clumped down the steps and out the door to wait. It smelled a ton better out there. Poor Frost.

It was about a week later when Frankie heard the cause of death. He was so mad, he nearly punched the wall, but he had learned the hard way back in High School not to do that. He had busted his finger that time. He told Hennesy, who growled. "Starvation? That bastard of a manager. Is there anything we could report him for?"

Frankie was thinking, gave up and phoned Frost.

"Hey, man, I gotta ask if there's something we can arrest that scum Tell for?"

"There's no law against being one cold piece of work. Too bad. Even if we tried, 'Not reporting a death', he could lie his way out of it. Poor dude starved right in his room. The Doc found traces of pneumonia, which is probably what laid him up so he didn't get any food. She's pissed too, but I heard from your Mother that she dropped a wad on the local Meals on Wheels, so somebody benefitted."

"Typical Maura. I guess I can do some investigating of my own. You know my source. What was the vic's name?"

"His name was Mark Ryan, aged 35. Worked as a contractor till he lost his job oh, Man, Poor Guy. It was almost a year ago. Hope the gorgeous Ms. Osceola has info for you."

Frankie thought it best to start with calling her. Things had not ended well last time he saw her.

He found a private doorway and called her number.

"Frankie? How are you?"

She didn't sound so great. Frankie decided to go for laying all his cards face up. "Hey, Adela. Are you feeling okay? You looked a little shook up last time I saw you."

There was a sharp intake of breath. "You're right. I'm sorry I acted that way. I was reliving some bad memories. Forgive me?" The phoniness was gone.

"Yeah. It's no biggie. I do want to ask you about something I had happen recently. If that's okay with you."

"Sure. What happened?" She sounded interested.

"There was a guy who died in his apartment, and no one checked on him for 2 and a half weeks. He had Pneumonia, and couldn't go out, so he starved to death. I couldn't arrest the apartment manager–damn it. Any ideas?"

Her silence felt angry. Finally she spoke. "I guess murder is out of the question."

"I didn't hear that."

"If I knew the address, I'd hit them with publicity, and a long demonstration on the front steps. Where did all this happen?"

"Nice question, my brainy friend. Hiberian Royal Arms, 13408 State Street. I have some other stuff we need to discuss, when could I see you? "

He heard her start to speak, hesitate, then "You want to know about my reaction to Gabriel Dean's name."

"Yeah. The way things are looking, he could be family soon, so, yeah."

"I understand. You're a cop. You need to be careful of who you date. The reason I haven't talked about it is it hurts. You get that, right?"

He could hear it in her voice. She was practically in tears. "Yeah, I do. I promise not to be a cop about it all."

He waited, his heartrate going up a bit. "Frankie, meet me in my office. Is 6 Okay?"

"Yeah, it works fine. I'll talk to you then. Bye Adela."


	6. Chapter 6

Frankie's Adventure, Chapter 6

By Simahoyo

Frankie finally took a code 10 and went down to the café. His Ma was there so fast it wasn't funny. He wondered who blabbed about Adela. Korsak?

"Hi, Ma. Could you bring me something fast? I had a busy day, and I only have half an hour."

Angela combined a little too much interest with sympathy. "Is a burger and fries okay? I heard you have a new girlfriend. What's she like?"

"Ma, order first, then we can talk. Please?"

Her look was calculated to make him feel guilty, and it did. He would have to make it up to her.

"Ma, some chocolate milk too, please." Then she gave him a loving look. Frankie was pretty sure she was remembering him as a little kid coming home from grade school. He sat, and watched the room, a cop habit mirrored by almost everyone in there. He noticed Erin from Crime lab scoot by. Funny, she always did such serious work, but always had a huge smile. Had a couple of little kids too, he had heard. That would be a nice life. Detective squad, wife, kids. Yeah, funny how the phantasy wife looked like Adela.

Ma came back with his food, put it in front of him, and started in. "About this girlfriend, Frankie.

Who is she, what's she like, where did you meet her?" Frankie grabbed food as she talked. It was the only way he was going to get anything to eat without offending her. He was still chewing when she elbowed him to get him to talk. Sometimes he wished he had Janie's nerve–but he didn't.

"Her name is Adela Osceola. She's a Nurse Practitioner–like a cross between a nurse and a doctor." He swallowed, sneaked another bite, while Angela nodded, and chewed.

"And? Is she Italian?"

"Nope, but we have a whole bunch in common culturally. She's from Florida. _(Ma looks shocked, hope she isn't thinking some poor redneck.)_ She's a Seminole Indian. Wait, she's well educated, works with mental patients, and her family is a big, close bunch, living together. Even her eighty year old Grandmother."

Angela grinned. "You really must like her. Listen to how you're defending her." She elbowed him again. "I'll bet she's pretty."

Frankie couldn't help himself, "Oh yeah. Hey Ma, can I call you and talk to you later, I really need to eat and get back. Okay?"

She nodded while smiling. Frankie kept shoving in food until Stanley yelled at his Ma to get back to work. He spent the rest of the afternoon checking his watch. At the end of his shift, he braved the rush hour traffic At ten to six, he was looking for a very elusive parking space. Finally, at five after, he spent the money on a parking lot, and ran the three blocks to her building.

He was huffing for breath by the time he got to her office. Adela opened the door, and smiled.

"Frankie, it's only ten after. Where's the fire?"

"I didn't know if you would think I was rude if I was late."

Adela laughed. " Sit down and catch your breath. When I was ten," she sat next to him, "My family and I went to Miami to protest the 500 anniversary of Columbus landing. The march was starting at noon, so we figured that since we got there at ten after, we would have plenty of time to fix our hair, put on our beads, and get a drink of water before it started. Much to our shock, and the shock of everybody around us, they started the march right then. Nobody was ready. That was my first experience with White Man Time."

Frankie could only look at her blankly. She had lost him in there someplace.

"I grew up in the country, in the South, and an Indian. That means I had to learn that time means something to other people. Don't worry about being late. I didn't even notice."

"Thanks. I guess you're a stop and see the flowers type."

"Big time. Orange blossoms or magnolias. Everything but lilacs, because they make me sneeze."

Frankie couldn't believe it. "No joke? Me too. But, I guess we need to get serious, huh?"

Adela tucked her chin under, then looked up at him. "Yeah. We do. I'm usually a straight ahead full speed and forget the consequences type. But twelve years ago, I learned one heck of a lesson about getting my ducks in a row. I was working at Brighton. I was young and knew it all. So, I was helping out with the tribal mental health system, and I found out that a friend from my childhood was just diagnosed with Schizoid Paranoia. I had known him since first grade. And I thought that because I knew him, I could handle things."

Frankie could feel the tension as she started her story. This was going to be a hard one.

"Boy, what an idiot I was! " She shook her head. "I'll just call him patient X, okay? So, my Dad was a game warden for the state, and he had a smart, funny, good looking assistant. His name was Hank Billie. And he was so good at his job the poachers and chemical dumpers called him, _'halpate'_ –alligator, because he could hide, then slide right out and catch them red handed. After a while, I fell in love with him, and we were going to get married in a year." She was fighting tears now, and Frankie took her by the hand.

Adela took a shaky breath. "So, I noticed that patient X was acting strange. He would lose the thread of conversation and go off on tangents of tangents of tangents. He had some jerky movements, and started to hear things. I suspected he wasn't taking his medications. I knew his parents, so I asked them, and they swore he was fine. I asked my supervisors, and they told me it was illegal to make him take any medication. So, I gave up, and tried to watch him. "

"Our neighborhood is so tiny, we don't even have a real neighborhood. There's a bait and tackle place, general store/post office, and a boat repair place, which was empty half the time because the old man who ran the place would rather be fishing than work. It was one of those hot days that give the South a bad reputation. You know, you take a shower, step out side and wilt."

"That sounds depressing. Why does your family stay there?"

"We've been there thousands of years. It's like part of us. So, getting back to my story, I was supposed to meet Hank at the boat repair place, and talk about wedding plans. I was going up the ramp, and Mike was coming down, just freaking out. He was shaking, and crying, and looked sick. Finally I heard him say Hank's name and I ran inside." Here she stiffened, with her eyes closed. Her hands were starting to shake again. "The place was covered with blood. I never saw so much, and I used to hunt deer. Hank was lying there, with a garden rake in him. Someone had used it over and over..." She broke down at that point, and Frankie just held her was she cried. Her sobs were coming from somewhere way deep inside her soul.

It took a while for her to calm down enough to continue. Frankie handed her his handkerchief, and watched her wipe her eyes. Adela looked embarrassed. She was a proud as Janie.

"We called it in to the local police, such as they were, and then the jurisdiction fight started. I got a doctor to come look at him while they fought, and it turned out that it was Patient X who did it.

Everyone blamed me. Said I didn't watch him enough, and I should have done this or that. His folks never spoke to me again, I lost the man I loved...Then the FBI thought my brother might have done it. I guess I still have a bad reaction to Agent Dean. Not his fault, I guess. The whole thing was so bad, I pulled up stakes, and moved here. I'm sorry Frankie. I hate falling apart. Really. Indian women–we pride ourselves on being strong. And look at me."

Frankie's heart swelled. "I am." and he kissed her.


	7. Chapter 7

Frankie's Adventure, Conclusion

By Simahoyo

Frankie had been dating Adela for a while before he decided to ask her about her name. They were at the Robber, and Janie and Maura were giving each other the eye again. He shrugged. He'd given up on figuring out those two last year. Adela was drinking ginger ale-apparently her favorite of all New England's foods. He looked into her eyes, and they smiled at each other.

"Adela, how did you wind up with that name?"

"What, Adela?" She started to laugh. "I have my Dad to thank for that one. He is a huge fan of Earl Stanley Gardner, you know, he wrote Perry Mason? So Dad wanted to name me Della, after Della Street. Mom had a fit. I mean Della Street was a sex symbol. So they argued up one side and down the other, until she finally said, 'Only if you use the formal version, Adela.'. So Dad called me Della behind her back. And _you _can call me Della."

Frankie took her hand, still feeling the cold from the ice in her drink, then the warmth returning.

"I'd be honored."

That next week Frankie and Hennessy were called out on a disturbance at a very familiar address.

As they pulled up to the Hibernian Royal Arms _(the dump)_ the front steps were covered by women, and a few men, waving signs, and chanting, "This building lets people die!" And there was Della, front and center with a bullhorn, leading the chant. Frankie smiled. _(That's my girl.)_

He felt the other cops surge forward, pushing, and yelling, "Break it up!" One pushed Della, and grabbed her bullhorn. Frankie was there like a shot, standing in front of her. "Hey, watch it. That's my girlfriend." Then Frankie put a protective arm around her, and as they walked toward his squad car, he murmured, "Mind if I arrest you?" She looked back at him, grinning. "There's no one else I'd rather have do it."

The End?


End file.
